The end of things

“Back, back, to your own place! Your time is not yet come. Wait! Have patience! To-night is mine. To-morrow is yours!”

I went back to the Count’s dungeon. He was “sleeping” in the same coffin, with bright red lips and bloated fat cheeks. He looked more than content – an expression that made me rise up in rage, take a shovel and dare to bring it down upon his demon soul. But just as I was about to strike him, his eyes shot open and a sneer crossed his face. Startled, I lost control of the shovel. It fell downwards, bounced off the side of the coffin and glanced his cheek. Blood trickled down to the corner of his mouth and the lid fell to.

I ran. I RAN.

The doors blew shut before me, trapping me away from the troupe of workers – my ride home, to Mina, to sanity. They left me, still a prisoner, with those awful women and that devil.

Grabbed a pocketful of gold, I flung myself out the window and shimmied my way as far as I could go. I would make for home by myself … or fall to my death.

If this is the last time I write … I’m sorry, Mina. Nothing is worse than staying here.

The date of my last letter

The Count said I was due to leave in the morning. I didn’t believe him. I asked: Why not tonight? I’d gladly walk. I didn’t care if there were any feelings in him left to hurt. I wanted out.

He took me up on my suggestion and opened the giant castle doors to let me outside. When he did, the howling grew louder – louder than every before, as if on cue. He kept slowly opening those doors and I just pictured the wolves who had devoured that poor woman previously leaping inside the castle with their red maws and giving me the same treatment.

Shut the door! I told him … and he did, triumphantly.

I need only last the night!

I don’t think I will.

The Count’s room

I made it into the Count’s room. Taking the demon as an example, I set off across the castle’s south face, clutching onto the giant stone walls and inching along a crumbling ledge.

I didn’t die. Obviously.

His room is much like the rest of the castle – empty, dusty and cold as hell. A pile of gold in the corner caught my eye, as well as a heavy door. I tried the door and found it unlocked. Finally, a hint of luck in this terrible journey!

I followed a dark tunnel until I reached an open room filled with old coffins. Any other time I probably would’ve screamed, had a heart attack and promptly wet myself, but honestly, at that point, nothing surprised me anymore.

Actually, that’s not true. Upon closer inspection, I realized that one of the coffins held the Count! He seemed to be asleep, at least he wasn’t killing me … but he also wasn’t breathing. I ran from the room and threw myself back on the outer castle walls until I safely reached my bed.

I’ll try it again tonight.

Mina…

Lizard man, take two

Enough! I can’t stay here any longer!

The wailing

“So, my friend, you are tired? Get to bed. There is the surest rest. I may not have the pleasure to talk to-night, since there are many labours to me; but you will sleep, I pray.”

A woman threw herself at the castle doors last night. She was screaming for the return of her baby, calling the Count a monster.

You know that howling noise I had complained about earlier? It seems the Count had been right, as the woman was no more than into her first fits of insanity before a pack of wolves charged at her.

I tried to go to sleep, but I couldn’t shake the echo of frail wailing from my dreams.

Crap!

The Count intercepted my letters before the troupe of workers could make off with them.

I’m dead.

The length of my life

“The first should be June 12, the second June 19, and the third June 29.”

Oh Mina, I don’t think my e-mail reached you at all.

Today the Count asked me to write three e-mails, under his supervision. He looked nearly as angry as the previous night and while I wanted to refuse … how could I? I am a prisoner!

I dated them like so.

A band of workers came to the castle today. I gave them two letters, hoping that they would push them along their way to you, my love, and Pete. It’s been years since I’ve written an actual letter. E-mail is a far more effective method of crying for help.

The ladies of the castle

“My tablets! quick, my tablets!
‘Tis meet that I put it down.”

I saw him go out again! I’ve met with the Count enough times to know that his hands do not have suction cups taped to them. This can only be the markings of a devil. I try to avoid him as much as possible these days, but I’m never fortunate enough to completely evade him. This is his castle, after all, and I am merely a misplaced visitor.

Last night I tried a few other doors. One was not fully latched. After the Count made his ungodly descent, I burst inside this room and promptly fell asleep on a dusty couch in the moonlight. At least, I think I fell asleep. Perhaps this was but a dream. God, how I hope it was.

Whatever my consciousness, I watched three young, pale women enter the room and fawn over me. They argued over who would be the first to … to … I’m not sure. They were beautiful, yes. If you call cruel death beautiful. And their laughter…

But just when they were about to swoop down on me, that horrible Count returned and hurled them across the room. I’ve never seen him so angry. He told them that they could have me when he was done with me.

Oh Mina! I’m not an adulterous man. Believe me when I say I fear for my life at the hands of these women. But you can’t read this…

Nobody can.

The Lizard Man

“Should sleep now or ever overcome you, or be like to do, then haste to your own chamber or to these rooms, for your rest will then be safe. But if you be not careful in this respect, then…”

The Count is a demon!

After hearing his words above, I left my room and sought out a place to look out over the mountain, the woods and the moonlight. I needed a breath of an expanse … something to calm my prisoner nerves and anxious thoughts (particularly in respect to my e-mail. Did it make it to you, Mina?).

As I was looking out the window on the South Stair, I saw something that made my soul run screaming back to London. It was the Count. His head appeared just out of his own windowsill along the black castle walls. And then his shoulders appeared … and legs. He was crawling down the castle wall, head first, like a lizard from hell!

This is a joke. Please, god, tell me this is a joke.

This blog is private

“Then write now, my young friend. Write to our friend and to any other; and say, if it will please you, that you shall stay with me until a month from now.”

You cannot see these entries, Mina. But god knows I wish you could.

I’m afraid to make any of these entries public. If I do, the Count may see them and may figure out more about my anxiety and fear than I’ve been letting on.

I need to get out of this place. I REALLY need to get out of THIS HOLE. I’ll do anything…

And even though the Count surely can’t read this blog, it was as though he read my mind as today he’s provided me with a chance at escape.

E-mail! I will email Pete and my beloved and hope to god that the Count does not get a chance to read them before I click ’send.’ He wants me to stay in this hole for another month and I dare say … HELL NO!